


The Losing Side

by gaelitabis



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Character Development, F/M, Headcanon, Life sometimes sucks, M mainly for drug use, Sherlolly if you squint, Unilock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:32:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2295158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaelitabis/pseuds/gaelitabis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I find weird the way Sherlock talks about love. His body language and his choice of words make me think there’s something he is not telling.  So I wrote this little head canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Penelope1730](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penelope1730/gifts).



> I don’t own the characters, English isn’t my first language and there was no beta. But I tried my best and I hope you enjoy the story. 
> 
> Penelope1730 was extremely kind, helpful, and encouraging all thoroughout the process; I simply lack the words to express to her my gratitude.

**January, 26**

A gush of wind made its way through the trees making them rattle. But for once Sherlock wasn’t paying any attention to his surroundings as he rapidly made his way to the library. It was a cold morning, so he felt lucky he occupied a small student apartment just a 20 minute walk away from school. Even luckier, he didn’t need share it with anyone. So far, his sophomore year had proved to be a little bit more interesting than the one before. He’d kept himself busy during the holidays making plans for his future dissertation; he’d even started collecting some data. He was admittedly making an early start, but there was a good chance he’d be able to shorten his stay in university by as much as a full year. He'd also started thinking about his options for grad school; though he was sure he’d already managed to narrow things down to two different programs. The first one entailed a major change of location which would put a great distance between him and his family. _Wouldn’t that be nice for a change?_ He’d sure miss Mummy and Dad (at least a bit), but Mycroft…well, not so much. It wasn't like they’d been seeing much of each other of late either. His brother was a busy fellow these days- Sherlock suddenly remembered he’d left his fridge completely empty again. Shucks! Could he get the Chinese girl downstairs to run his errands for him once more? _Probably not._ So many things keeping him distracted! Contrary to the future, the present was always full of infuriating, little petty details. It was no wonder he tried to stay as little time as possible in it.

"Hi!" Sherlock was so uttertly lost in his own train of thought that he couldn’t help feeling startled when all of a sudden he found himself in front of… Who was this? The girl seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. _Second year (as well). Black and white striped jumper. Leather boots… Social studies: politics! Native town, seaside; Hastings? Flemish ascendance on her mother’s side, most likely the grandmother. Smart. Good grades, but nothing impressive. Family history of mild skin allergies-_

“Hey! Is everything alright?”

“What?”

“I just said _hi_.”

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” Sherlock took a moment before greeting her back, “Hi.”

_Long loose blonde hair (worn it like that since middle school). Light freckles, soft round face and… yes... nice round hips too._

“I-“

“I don’t think I know you, do I?”

The girl looked a bit surprised but then offered him a grin, “Oh, no. Of course you don't.” She raised her left hand and waved. “I’m Laura. And you’re Sherlock, right?”

_Big dark blue eyes._

“What can I do for you, Laura?”

“I was actually hoping I’d get some help.”

“Got something stolen? Or do you just want to know who your boyfriend’s sneaking with behind your back?” His expression was hard to read.

The girl gave a short chuckle. “No, nothing like that. I just… Well, l’m in a bit of a rut. So, last night I was talking to a friend and she happened to mention she’d shared a class with you. Said you were a real smart one.” The girl suddenly grew a little coy. “She never thought I’d actually ask, but-”

Despite the fact that she was having some trouble trying to articulate her request, Sherlock noticed she didn’t lack confidence and he liked that, "You’ve got an upcoming exam which you need to pass and you haven’t been able to focus on it because your social life keeps you too busy. Anyway, you don’t think that particular class will matter later in life, and you might be just right, so, basically, you’re trying to ask for a tutorship. Am I wrong?”

“How did you know?” She looked amazed. “Did Sue tell you?... Never mind. Just, say: What do you think? I’ll pay for it, of course.”

“Which class is it?”

“Oh, so you don’t know _everything_ then.” She said teasingly.

“Almost.”

“Calculus.”

Sherlock squinted his eyes. “Not sure that’s my forte, but we can give it a try.”

“Good!” The girl seemed pleased and her eyes shone warmly. “Here’s my number. I’m usually free Tuesday evenings, but we can meet whenever it suits you best.”

“Yes, we can do that.”

\- - * - -

**February, 10**

Laura had grown tired of the library chair. She stretched her arms and arched her back. “I can’t believe it’s been three hours. I’m soooo tired.” She directed a gleeful look at Sherlock as she started collecting her things. “But I guess we’ve made some important progress here.”

“Sort of.” He raised a brow as a soft smile was drawn on his lips. “But it wasn’t that difficult after all, was it?”

“Yeah, I guess. Still, took us, what, four sessions?” Laura yawned.

They seemed pretty much at ease with each other. “I really appreciate this, you know. You said you were not accepting any money or anything, but I was wondering-” she leaned an inch closer her voice slightly hesitant, “We could go grab some dinner, my treat, and then… the guys from building B are hosting a party tonight. Maybe you’d like to come along?”

Sherlock shifted on his seat and locked eyes with her. “Ok.”


	2. Chapter 2

**April, 17**

The evening found them curled tightly together under his covers. Laura and Sherlock breathed harmoniously as they looked into each other’s eyes. It’d been some two months since they’d started going out and they were used to spending loads of time alone at his place.

Laura drew some idle circles on his shoulder before reaching for his hair and pulling a soft curl. She wrapped it around her finger and made him smile.

“ _Sherlock_.” Laura purred with a wicked grin, “What kind of a name is that?”

He looked at her adoringly, “What kind of name is _Laura_?”

“That’s the name of beauty, silly.” She smiled again before letting the curl go. She then slid her hand caressing his jawline, and finally threw an arm around him. The feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest sent shivers down Sherlock’s spine. He was absolutely lost in the pleasure of their embrace.

“Who’d have known you were quite the experienced one.” Laura teased him as she caressed his back.

“I’ve had a fair share of practice.”

“It shows.” Laura giggled. “But I wouldn’t have known.”

Sherlock opened his half shut eyes and looked at her questioning. He then smiled and pinched her ass, “What do you mean?” The girl broke in laughter.

“Stop it!” She wriggled joyfully. “I mean, you looked so shy when I first met you.” Sherlock’s eyes were fixed on hers. “But I’m so happy I found you,” she said as she placed a hungry kiss on his lips.

When they broke apart Sherlock grew a bit serious and asked, “How was your first time?”

“Why would you want to know?”

“No reason.”

“Don’t look so abashed. It’s alright. It was no big deal. I mean, nothing special really. We were coming back from a party. He was the friend of a friend of a cousin… something like that. The thing is, I’d been making out with him at the party and when he offered me a ride home- Well, I guess I was curious. It was fast and it hurt. And I remember I was rather disgusted with the mess-” Laura noticed the frown that had appeared on Sherlock’s face, “Don’t give me that look. You were the one who asked.”

“It’s Ok.”

She leaned on her elbow. “I didn’t tell him that it was my first time, you know? I didn’t want him to know. It would have meant giving him some sort of power, and I didn’t want to. I was just experimenting after all.”

“So, no romance?”

“Not that time.”

“How old were you?”

“Nineteen.” Laura stroked Sherlock’s hair tenderly. “How about you?”

“I was seventeen. It was one of my mother’s friend.”

“Really?”

“Stop. No need looking so smug. She wasn’t an old lady or anything. She was 34 and perfectly lovely, thank you. She was actually married to one of my father’s colleagues. Trophy wife, bored out of her wits. Her husband spent lots of time away from home, just like my dad, which made everything easier. We had lots of good fun.”

“What? Did she just pull down your trousers and sucked your cute little cock?”

Sherlock’s eyes grew wider with feigned indignation, “It’s never been anything little!”

“No, of course not.” Both laughed heartily.

“So, did she teach you everything you know? That’s actually kind of cheesy.”

“Not everything. There were some few others. Afterwards.”

“Tell me about her. What was her name?”

“Elaine. She was a classical singer. Met her husband at some sort of gala early in her career. She got married and then gave up singing. My parents used to entertain a lot when I was growing up, so I would often play for their guests. Elaine said it would be lovely to have me come over and help her practice; she wanted to retake singing. And I guess I must have been somewhat of a handful, because my mother was more than happy to have me go to her place every other afternoon. She never knew, of course. If Mycroft had been around, he’d have probably known, but he’d already started working, so, no worries. All for the better, I guess. Wouldn’t have been nice to have him pocking around.”

“Did you seduce her with those lovely eyes of yours?”

“Not exactly. Actually, she seduced me... But I can’t deny I was very curious.”

“Cheeky bastard!”

“Not really. Things didn’t happen like that. We’d been practicing together for four months when she finally made a move. She was a very nice cultured woman, knew how to keep me interested. I guess I knew she was attracted all along, so was I. She had such a lovely pair of breasts; I often tried stealing a look at them. Guess all that supposedly discreet staring didn’t go unnoticed. So, one day before practice she offered me a glass of wine and started asking questions. I guess the bulge in my pants just gave her her answers.”

“So you were _lovers_. But, were you in love with her?”

“Nah. She taught me lots of things, but we were never in love. She made things clear straight from the beginning. We grew to be very good friends, though.”

“I guess it would take someone like you to say such nonsense.”

“If you say so… Now, I always felt a bit guilty about the whole thing. But it was good knowing I wasn’t on the losing side.”

“How’s that?”

“Her husband. I mean, it wasn’t nice on him, was it? He never knew about it, though. But if he had known, well, it would have been bad. These things, they break people… You know, Dad had one of those too. It broke havoc at home, Mum suffered terribly. So at least it was nice that no one got hurt.”

“But your parents didn’t get a divorce, did they?”

“No.”

“I wonder if my father has had any sort of adventure.”

“He hasn’t. And, anyway, it’s better not knowing.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Have you’ve told them about me?”

“What? Yes. I guess… sort of. They’re coming in two weeks. You can meet them if you want to. We can have lunch together. How about that?”

“Alright.”

“Good.”

“Are they coming to check on their little girl?”

“No. Dad’s got some business in town and mom will size any opportunity to get away from home. She’s always complaining she doesn’t get enough getaways. They still have to put Ed through college and I guess that dumbass won’t be getting any scholarship. But after that, just a few years from now, they’ll have enough opportunities to travel. Mom wants to see America. She’ll go there, I know. She always gets her way.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Nah. I like it here; I like being with you. I do miss the sea, though… So, it’ll be nice seeing them, anyway. And I’m sure they’ll love you.”

“Is Edward coming too?”

“I don’t think so. Ed will be delighted to have the house to himself. He’ll give the neighbors hell with his guitar. Mom and Dad won’t hear the end of it. It’s always the same. What about your parents, you don’t really talk about home. Do they ever come visit?”

“No.”

“Are they tucked away in some grandiose country manor?” Laura tickled his side teasingly.

He squirmed a bit, “I just go visit on holidays.”

“So do I.”

The room had grown warmer. Sherlock took the duvet off and Laura shifted to her back. She started wriggling her toes and stared at them, “What do you do think our parents were thinking about when they were our age?”

“Politics and Ratner's theorems or the Oppenheimer conjecture.”

“What the fuck is that?!” She chuckled and hit Sherlock softly with a pillow. He covered her in butterfly kisses and then took a hold of her wrists swiftly as he pinned her against the bed. He trapped her hips with his knees and then lowered himself softly letting his full body come to rest on top of hers. They started kissing again. After a little while she broke the kiss searching for air and looked into his eyes, “What do you want from life?”

“Oh, so we are getting serious now?” Sherlock moved his hand to her chest and stroked it softly, “I want to be with you.”

Laura was surprised by the seriousness that suddenly overtook him. She whispered, “I’m here.”

“So, are we together?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m asking you if we are an item?”

“Are you asking just now? Of course we are, silly.”

“Good.” Sherlock smiled pleased. He cleared his throat and trying to downplay the sobriety of the moment carried on, “Very clever. So now you tell me, smart-pants, what do you want from life?”

“I dunno. What everybody else wants, I guess. I want to be happy and I want a bright and long career; I’m going places, just wait and see…Hmmm, Primer Minister. How about that?”

“Yeah, why not.” Sherlock pulled himself even closer. Laura gasped in delight as she felt the throbbing warmness pressed against her thigh.

“I _love_ you, Laura.”

“I love you too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**June, 14**

Sherlock looked up. The sky had suddenly become grey and it wouldn’t be long before it started pouring. Nothing seemed to be going his way! He took one last drag before tossing the rolled cigarette and then finally got started. It was clear that he’d better hurry if he wanted to make it to Laura’s without getting wet. Her dorm building wasn’t that far away, but it would still take him some half an hour getting there; that was, provided he kept a steady pace. He had made that exact same walk uncountable times in the past few months, but today something seemed off. His feet felt like lead, unwilling to take the first step; he just couldn’t place what it could be, but if he paid close attention to the churning feeling in his gut, well… there was no good in denying that something was _decidedly_ off.

A bare seventeen minutes later, he found himself standing in front of Laura’s dorm front door. He hadn’t been able to escape the drizzle, so his usually well-kept curls had become a hot mess. He used his left hand to ruffle them trying to do away with the excess moist as he hurriedly used the other one to tap the entrance code. He allowed himself inside and walked past the common room where some first years were lounging in perfect content, oblivious to the rest of the world. He threw one quick glance around and realized neither Laura nor any of her friends were anywhere to be seen. He then hurried down to the end of corridor and climbed the stairs to the first floor not knowing whether he felt relieved or not.

Sherlock found himself in front of Laura’s shared bedroom unsure of how to proceed. It had gotten dark and the place had started sizzling with Friday night life. He simply knocked quietly and waited. A noisy group of students, three girls and two boys, came tumbling down the stairs at the end of the corridor. They were quite an animated bunch and sang happily one of those horrid pop songs that kept being played everywhere. Singing, that is, if you could call such their loud shrieking. Wherever they were headed to, their party had clearly begun a bottle of vodka earlier in the redhair’s bedroom above. Sherlock stood rigidly and knocked once again. He must have stared a little too long because one of the girls took notice of him and met his gaze. She gave him a mischievous wink to which he responded with an uncomfortable shift. The girl curled her mouth and blew a kiss his way before disappearing downstairs into the lively riot created by her group of friends. Sherlock shrugged and knocked once again. This time, he’d make sure he was heard.

It still took three rather loud knocks before someone opened the door. Sue stood grudgingly in front of him making it obvious she’d initially considered not answering at all. She must have changed her mind knowing the dim streak of light would inform anyone of her presence. And well, Sherlock wasn’t just anyone. She knew he could be persistent.

“Hi, Sherlock,” the girl greeted him with a husky voice. She looked rather charming in her disheveled ensemble but was slightly nervous and was trying not to show it.

_This can’t be good._

“Is Laura in?” Sherlock tried to look confident as he peered through the half opened door, but it was clear that the girl was spending the rest of the night studying alone.

“I’m sorry; I’m afraid she isn’t here. Wanna leave her a message?” Immediately, he gave her a sweet innocent smile, “Not really. I’d just like you to tell me where she is.” Sherlock wouldn’t give up so easily. He needed to know where he could find her.

“And why exactly should I know?”

“Because you’re her friend and her roommate.”

“I’m telling you, Sherlock. I really don’t know.”

“Really?”

“U-hu.”

“Common!”

God, the man was infuriating. “I’m telling you I simply don’t know!”

Sherlock’s face was sort of pleading but his words came out rather blunt, “She didn’t just disappear into thin air. You must know where I can find her! I haven’t seen her all week, and I’m starting to think she’s out of town. For Christ’s sake, Sue, I’m not asking for your account’s PIN number here!”

Sue hated herself for having anything to do with these two. So, she simply confirmed what he already seemed to know, “Yeah, she’s gone for the weekend.” She avoided meeting his gaze

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

“Sue!”

“Anyway, if she’s gone, what exactly makes you think that I should know anything about it?! YOU are her boyfriend, aren’t you? And a genius, last time I checked. You of all people should know!” The girl’s expression had suddenly changed; she didn’t look nervous anymore, but had grown irritated. Sherlock was used to this kind of reaction from people, so he didn’t really pay much attention to it.

She realized she’d raised her voice. “I’m sorry.” Her face softened a little, “She’s gone to her parents, you ass. And, now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more important things to do than listen to your whining.” She gave him a faint smile. It was obvious that the conversation had come to an end, so feeling sort of defeated, Sherlock thanked her and left.

It was now fairly obvious that Laura had been avoiding him for the past couple of weeks. Especially for the past few days. And, with that much settled, Sherlock sluggishly started his way back home.

He was having the hardest of times trying to figure the reason behind it. Admittedly he wasn’t the stereotypical boyfriend who’d bring flowers and chocolates or buy surprise theater tickets, but Laura had always known this and she’d seemed OK with it.

Granted, they hadn’t been seeing much of each other lately, but that wasn’t supposed to be weird either. Sherlock had been recently engaged in an advanced chemistry project which involved lots of extra hours, but Laura knew everything about it. She had even been encouraged him to join the research program in the very first place. He remembered how excited she had been when he had shown her the welcome letter. She’d gushed all over him saying how proud she was.

And Laura also had the habit of keeping herself pretty busy, so it couldn’t be like she was resenting any lack of attention. She was involved in a long string of tedious extracurricular activities which Sherlock couldn’t understand for the life of him why’d anyone be interested in wasting their time in. Take, for example, the world affairs discussion club ( _boring_ ), cinema circle ( _extremely dull_ ), or her early Wednesday and Fridays fitness class, ( _why even get out of bed at those ungodly hours!_ ) _._ All of these were idiotic activities where idiotic people came together to spend their time in the most idiotic possible ways. But Laura, despite not being and idiot herself, seemed to enjoy all of them and Sherlock couldn’t see a reason why they shouldn’t leave each other be.

So what could be the matter then?

_It can’t be really my fault. I’ve done nothing wrong._

Sherlock would have been delighted to share more common activities with his girlfriend, but Laura had made very clear she had no interest in most any of his hobbies and pastimes. _Except for the violin._ She claimed that she loved listening to him play, but to be honest she didn’t know any of the music or the musicians he admired, and whenever he played for her they always ended -sooner than later- just making love.

Sherlock stopped for a moment and took shelter in a doorstep to roll another cigarette. He was frantically running all sorts of ideas in his head. Sue’s body language had been unsettling. She certainly was a nervy thing more most of the time, but there was something about the way her mouth had twitched that he hadn’t liked. Perhaps she hadn’t lied straight to his face, but Sherlock could definitely tell when someone wasn’t giving him the whole story.

Laura hadn’t disappeared into thin air; she’d gone home, and if she’d gone there, something had to be the matter. He couldn’t blame her for not telling him. After all, he’d just let her down with the lunch thing a short while ago. Being who he was, it was actually amazing it had taken that long for her to get angry at him.

The young man’s lips finally curled softly into a handsome sly smile.

Initially, Sherlock had agreed to meet with Laura’s parents and she had gone about happily making plans, but he had canceled last minute under some barely believable excuse. He’d given her a call and he’d easily got out of it, but Laura hadn’t been able to pretend she wasn’t disappointed. She’d said it was cool and although Sherlock hated listening to her cheerless voice, she’d said exactly what he’d wanted to hear: no problem.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet them. But, yes, he didn’t want to. The whole thing had made him worry sick since the first moment she’d brought it up. And he had tried to be gracious about it. However, when the fateful day finally came he’d convinced himself that there was no need rushing things. There’d be surely many other occasions to meet with them.

He should have seen these things never go too long without a consequence…

By the time Sherlock arrived to his place, he was soaking wet. Once inside, the first thing he did was walk to the kitchenette and turn the electric kettle on. He didn’t bother with the lights as he was feeling tired and he would soon go to bed, anyway. _A quick cuppa and I’ll gladly call it a day._ Luckily he’d get some six or seven hours of uninterrupted sleep that night.

He went to the bathroom, discarded his wet clothes and used a towel to dry his hair. He then put his pajamas on and lay on bed as he waited for the appliance to deliver the comforting pop announcing the boiled water. Sherlock ran his fingers through his scalp and his rebellious curls couldn’t help but complied with this weary act of relaxation.

He knew he had to do something about his present dilemma. He’d probably have to go the extra mile and make some remarkable move to make things alright. Meeting Laura’s folks was perhaps now inevitable. _Is that what she wants?_ He wondered if he’d have to offer going along with Laura next time she’d go visit them. _When would this be?_ Or did he have to propose a visit out of his own sometime in the near future? Sounded like it.

Better avoid holidays. Keep it simple. Arrive early on Saturday and leave early, as early as possible, on Sunday. (Hastings would have something interesting to offer him, right?) Go. Visit. Get done with it.

 _Oh, but to spend a whole weekend surrounded by strangers_!

Sherlock often felt out of place whenever he spent time with other people. He usually ended feeling more self-conscious that he’d allow himself to admit and that was precisely the kind of thing he tried to avoid most of all. Being around people was uncomfortable. Had always been. For starters, there was the fair amount of unwanted attention. Whether it was something as simple as a curious stare, or something as vexing as the uncountable sloppy attempts to engage him, there was always something. Always. And he hated it. He hated people thinking they could simply come over and start a conversation.

People liked thinking they could easily get to know one another. But it rarely worked, and, to be honest, in the end it was usually a mess. Such attempts of ‘kicking things off’ often left both parties feeling strained and kind of uncomfortable. Sherlock hated awkward silences, curious stares, and all those silly expectations dawning on peoples’ faces. Sherlock specially hated the sort of micro gestures that told him how people regarded him with a strange mix of contempt and awe.

Sherlock had (sort of) learned to adapt when he was forced to spend time with strangers; he made his best effort to go unnoticed but he found whole act quite bearing. An uncompromising smile and a tied tongue: that was the best he had to offer when it came to social gathering. But it wasn’t a secret. Laura knew he preferred spending time alone with her.

Boring people, stupid people. People. He couldn’t get it; what was the point of all those meaningless interactions?!…

He worried. He would really like Laura’s parents to form a good impression of him. Perhaps it would be easier than he’d think.

No. No fooling himself, this was going to be hard.

There was the younger brother as well. Just some four years younger. High school. Probably would be there too. Young people were complicated, just like people his own age. He thought of his fellow students at university. Most of the time he couldn’t tell how they could go about life. Their general expectations were rather uniform and dull. Everyone wishing for a happy future, money, fame, glory, routine, security, suburban houses, new cars, adventurous vacations.

Funny how life seldom was what people expected it to be.

He always felt out of place on the few occasions he hadn’t been able to escape spending some time with Laura and her friends. There was no point, really. What was so relevant about gulping down those stupid amounts of the same reeking beer every Friday? Why waste one’s time listening to some deranged fellow student playing guitar on improvised picnics? What was so wonderful about tiring oneself roaming around campus to give away some inconsequential leaflets advocating for whatever the next big cause was?

No wonder he’d given up so long ago trying to be part of all that craziness.

But Sherlock was clever enough to know there were some concessions that needed be made. Some kinds of interactions, if carefully handed, could even prove to be moderately pleasant. On certain occasions, he’d found talking to certain professors to be quite invigorating. Then, some socializing with a few carefully chosen classmates could certainly prove useful. And Laura, oh, that was so very different altogether. She made everything better. It was enormously pleasing to spend time with her! Although spending time with her friends always resulted appalling.

There were also the looks directed at him and his girlfriend. People couldn’t figure out why such a nice girl would hang out with someone like him. No one ever said anything out loud, but he could feel it. The stares, the murmurs. He couldn’t completely blame people for reaching this sort of conclusion; God, sometimes he thought about it as well. But that was a place he didn’t like going to. Everything that brought into question his relationship with Laura was banned from his mind. Laura’s love was a gift, and although he wasn’t very vocal about it, he was intent on safeguarding it.

Therefore, at this point, it became clear that there was no escaping the inevitable. So, Hasting it was then. He wanted to Laura to be happy.

First thing in the morning: check train’s timetable.

Sherlock was happy he’d come up with some sort of solution. Tea altogether forgotten, he finally drifted away. It seemed like a long night of good restful sleep waited for him.


	4. Chapter 4

**June, 17**

Sherlock had phoned Laura a few times, to no avail. Not having found the courage to ring her at her parents and not knowing when she’d be exactly back, he’d basically spent the whole weekend working himself up.

Monday’s wee hours finally found him engulfed in a book. After lying for some forty minutes in the same position, his reddened elbows made it clear it was time to take a pause. He placed the book against the ruffled sheet and languidly shifted his body’s weigh searching for the small wooden box under his bed. He opened it to discover there was barely enough left to roll one last joint. _Oh, well_. That certainly made for a second task for the day.

Sherlock got to his feet and directed himself to the small bathroom. He splashed some water on his face and couldn’t help notice the image of sheer exhaustion reflected at him. Shit. _I really need to try to get some sleep._ Two days of frantic pacing around his apartment had left him disheveled and frayed. And the fact that he’d almost eaten nothing and that he’d been chain smoking whatever he could get his hands on, didn’t help either. But Laura would be probably back today, he’d go find her, make it up to her, and everything was going to be fine.

First thing that day, go find her.

He talked to the mirror, “We'll bite the bullet.”

\- - * - -

At half past ten, Sherlock hurried into the building where he knew Laura would be taking the first class of the week. He made sure to be there in advance and placed himself next to a column just a couple feet away from the lecture hall. He had a clear view but he wasn't easily seen.

Some half hour later a flock of buoyant students stormed out of the room.

Sherlock’s whole body tensed and his heart started to race. Tens of people were parading out though the door. _Lazy six feet tall, odious talk-a-lot, unknown brunette, short haired over achiever; no, no, no!_ Wait… At last, there she was; Sweet Laura walked out of the room dragging her feet with Susan in tow.

_Soft whispering. A protective arm passed over the girl’s shoulder as they moved along._

_Why?_

Sherlock felt like he’d been glued to the ground.

_Shorter hair, she’d obviously had it cut during the weekend, plain outfit, ragged step._

It took him a minute before he could gather himself and make a start. He was feeling all clumsy as he caught up with them from behing. Placing a gentle hand on Laura’s elbow, he brought the girls to a stop. Laura gave a small startled jump as she turned around. _Absent stare, pallid skin, concealed dark rings under her eyes._

_Not good._

“Uhm-” Sherlock cleared his throat before he could add with a little voice, “Hi.” This was highly uncharacteristic of him.

Laura stood silent and threw him a baffling look. _Anger? Chagrin? What?_

Sue placed a hand on her friend’s forearm and looked questioningly. With a soft nod, her friend made her know it was ok. “Alright. I suppose I’ll leave you to it, guys.” Sue placed a soft kiss on Laura’s forehead and turned around; she mumbled a tepid bye avoiding Sherlock’s gaze before she left.

_Definitely not good._

Sherlock searched Laura’s face. He was looking desperately for some kind of clue, but she kept her gaze fixed on her crossed arms over her chest.

“Laura-“

“Not here.” She interrupted him harshly, finally raising her face. She then started off briskly and Sherlock just managed to follow her sheepishly with a surge of pain making its way through his every nerve. Oh, God, how badly he wanted to hold her! But he didn’t even try to get close for it was obvious she didn’t want him to.

He’d always feared this. He’d always fear the day when she’d get tired of him and his presence would become unwanted.

So… was this it then?

Once they had moved away from the crowded hallway and found themselves well into the school grounds, Laura came to a halt. She stopped next to a bunch of tall trees. The smell of fresh mown grass wavered in the air. This would have usually made Sherlock feel happy, but right now it only made him feel sick. Today nothing was the way it was supposed to be.

He looked at her. _Weird_. Laura was there, but she was not. She was the same girl he’d embraced hundreds of times and yet everything was different about her. Her face held the same features but she seemed to be a complete stranger now. The worse were the eyes. Where there’d originally been a source of soft emotions, he only found a pair of cold slabs. The skin surrounding them looked puffy indicating there’d been a good deal of crying.

_Wrong, wrong, wrong!_

Sherlock felt completely out of his element and didn't even know where to start. He wasn’t prepared for any of this. He was starting to put together he information available in front of him and he didn't like where it was pointing. Of all the possible scenarios he’d played in his mind, none came even close to this.

He opened his mouth and just when he was about to say something Laura abruptly interrupted him once more, "Don't."

He was paralyzed. A surge of panic coursed through his whole body. The girl addressed him coldly, "Sherlock, I have something very important to say and I need you to listen carefully. I'm going to be real quick here.” She cleared her throat, “The thing is… this, _us_ … It’s over.”

Sherlock stared fixedly at her.

After a few moments, she muttered in a softer voice, “Whatever you and I were; it is over.”

Sherlock continued staring silently.

Laura then loosened up a bit, but kept fiddling her hands. “What I’m saying is, we are through. I wish you the very best of lucks. And you really need to understand this is over."

 _Whatever you and I were._ What the hell was wrong with this woman?! Fear started getting dangerously mixed with a heavy dosage of anger inside Sherlock’s chest. Making his best effort to stay calm, he blurted out a little less kindly that he’d intended, “Laura, WHAT the hell is going on? What are you talking about? What’s got into you?”

The reply came fast. “You don’t get it, do you?” She looked very annoyed, but she then took a deep breath and seemed to reconsider. Shifting her gaze to her shoes, she arranged her tote’s strap on her shoulder and brushed her dress absentmindedly at the height of her stomach straightening the fabric out. Her other hand remained clutched with on the tote’s strap with whitening knuckles.

She was putting a brave fight against the tears that had started swelling her eyes. The words that followed were barely audible, “Some sort of genius you are.”

Sherlocked gaped. There was little else he could do at present.

Laura carried on with a softer tone, tears flowing down her cheeks now. “Sue told me about the visit and the phone calls. I know you were worried. It’s just,” she struggled to find the right words, “I didn’t spend the weekend at my parents. I-”

“I know.” This time it was Sherlock who cut in.

He felt an emptiness crawl over him like nothing he’d ever felt before. His senses were completely numbed. The whole world came to a stop and an indescribable sensation of anger and pain took over him. He thought he would burst into a million of tiny glass shards.

“I didn't know. I… I just realized”

He grabbed his head and carried on angrily, “Stupid! How couldn’t I notice?”

It was Laura’s turn to be silent.

“How could I’ve known? How? And how couldn’t you tell me… For heaven’s sake!" Sherlock’s voice was shaking. _This was bad._

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he insisted with a desperate look in his regularly poignant eyes.

“Tell you? Tell you what?! That I wanted to end it? That I felt like my life was over? That I was going to…”

"How was I supposed to know?!” Sherlock howled. “You SHOULD have told ME! I had the right to know.” He bent himself and placed his hands on his knees. He took some deep gulps of air trying to steady his breathing as he fought his own tears. “I had the right to know.”

Laura stopped sobbing and looked at him. “Are you even for real? I been though he'll and back and all you’re worried about is that I didn’t tell you? Why should I have even told you!? YOU always KNOW everything.”

Sherlock slowly got up. He approached the girl and held her hands. She didn’t resist him. Speaking more calmly he insisted, “You should have told me. How could you keep this from me? I’d been there for you. I’m here for you. I _love_ you.”

“I know.” Laura’s face was red and wet. “I wish things could have been different. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did. And I can’t turn back time. You can’t either… None of us can.” She let go of his hands. “I’m truly sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ve got myself more sorrow than you’ll ever know. But it was my choice. I need you to understand. We are going our separate ways now. I don’t want to be with you anymore. I’m not assigning fault. I just need to be away from you.” She took a step back and cleared her face with a hand, “I don’t want to be together anymore.” The look on her face confirmed his worst fears.

Sherlock struggled on, “It’s not fair, you know. I SHOULD have also had a say.”

“No!” Before Sherlock could say anything else Laura stormed out. “I need you to understand. You didn’t have a choice. I should have told you and you should have known; for that much I apologize. But don’t ever fool yourself into thinking that YOU had any say in this. This was my call. Mine, and mine alone. Don't you ever think for a second that it wasn’t the toughest decision I’ve made in my life. I’ve literally been dying a little ever since I-”

“How long?” Sherlock interrupted now.

“Six weeks… Two since I found out.”

“I could’ve been there for you-”

“No! You are not listening,” Laura was practically shouting now, “I didn’t want the child!”

“My child.”

“Don’t-”

“But I could have… ” Sherlock wiped his face in despair. He was blatantly wailing now.

“You have to stop this.” Laura directed a stern look at him. The man was twisted in pain.

Sherlock clenched his jaw and said with a voice far too low that bestowed him a feral quality, “I had all the right in the world to know.”

The menacing growl helped the girl make up her mind. In an equally daunting tone she spat back, “Don’t fucking tell me anything about any fucking rights. Don’t you ever dare judge me. You know nothing. My body, my life. You have no bloody business with any of it. Any at all. Do you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

Sherlock was silent.

“I neither want, nor need your support or sympathy. I don't want anything from you. I don’t want you.” Laura was panting.

“I don't want to see you _ever_ again.”

Sherlock forced a calm tone, “Laura, you are not thinking clearly. Listen, I know we can put this behind us. I know I haven't been the boyfriend you wanted, but I can do better. I'm willing to do better for you. For us. Just, you're not thinking clearly. You can't be serious. I-" he stammered, "I love you." He reached carefully trying to grab her arm.

“Don't you dare!” Laura pulled away. “I'm not playing any of your stupid games anymore. I’m serious when I say this: It is over and I don't want to see your ever again."

He stared blankly at her. Lost at words, he gulped down each of the things she’d said. The rage with which she’d spoken…

Sherlock couldn’t do anything but stand still and helplessly watch Laura walk out of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

**July, 6**

Sherlock noticed the discomfort that had been steadily building on the right side of his body. He shifted uncaringly trying to ease it. Another harsh growl escaped his stomach. He moved and lay on his other side bringing his knees close to his chest. He frowned and fixed his gaze on the wall. Once again, the time had come to analyze the small crack on the wall. It ran like a thin silky thread up north, and it wasn’t longer than two inches. It was slightly curved and for some reason it made him think of a candle, but unlike a candle there was no light at its upper end. No light coming in, no light going out. The shutters remained closed. Why bother? Was it Wednesday? It didn’t matter.

He ran his finger insistently up and down the crack. _Interesting_. If it were a blade he’d be already bleeding. Warm droplets, dripping. _Warm. Slow._

He felt heavy. Everything was blurry. His limbs felt funny as he kept slowly caressing he wall.

His eyes were incredibly red and swollen, and his face was hidden under some filthy stubble. Was he cold or was he warm? It didn’t make any difference. Silence. And suddenly, why was there so much clattering? The phone was ringing, but he wasn’t pick it up. Probably Mom. Two or three Sunday calls missed. Maybe _._ Hungry? Not sure, but he couldn’t move anyway. Voices. It’s been two weeks. Maybe? But it felt like he’d been there for ages. Blurry edges on objects, not sure where they end or begin, like all things surrounding; when the light came in sometimes, sometimes… But not (too) sure about what it was. It. A sound. Heavy breathing. He suddenly felt the need to get out.

Time for a little walk.

He knew exactly where he was going. Turn around the corner. Cold. Down, one, two. There. Sure. _Yes, me again, I know. Just give me some more, for fuck’s sake!_ White prickly kisses and then delicious tiredness. All he wanted was some sweet oblivion crawling slowly though his veins.

At last some rest, and the white noise that had been keeping him awake started to hush down.

Bliss.

Softness.


	6. Chapter 6

**July, 7**

Violet hung up and grasped hurriedly for the first thing within reach. She placed both hands firmly on the kitchen’s counter to support herself. She heard some distant strange noises. She couldn’t feel any part of her body and her vision became blurry. She slowly moved one hand over her stomach and pressed lightly trying to steady her breathing.

More noises, and this time she recognized them as her own.

It just was a couple of minutes before she could straighten up and reach for the phone again. When someone picked up her voice was eerily calm. “Hi, love. You know I never mean to disturb. Yes, it’s him. No, Dad and I are OK. They called just a moment ago. They wouldn’t say. Yes, it is serious.” Her voice grew somber. “Somewhere out on the street, I think they said but I just… I can’t remember. Yes, they’ve taken him in and he’s pulled through. No, I don’t know. No, I’m fine. We’re leaving on the first train. I bet you´ll get there sooner… Dad’s out in town. I’ll go get him. OK. I’ll just go now." Her voice finally cracked. "Mike dear, listen; I just want you to know...” She let out a tiny whimper, “We _love_ you, boys, so very, very much.”

Some fifteen minutes later, two small travel bags were placed on the backseat of the car. Violet drove to the town’s center, worrying her lip endlessly thinking how she would break the news to her poor husband this time. There had been quite a few incidents in the past, but none like this. They had been innocuous. Or so she had thought, until now. Her youngest son ODing was something she never thought she would have to deal with.

Another choked sob.

How could she have been so blind? What had she done wrong?

Violet changed gear and then brought a hand to her face wiping away the tears she couldn't fight off anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

**Epilogue**

Sherlock spent a couple days in hospital, and when he was released his parents took him back home. He was admitted in one of the finest addiction treatment centers of England. He then spent the rest of the year at his parents’ house in the country, engaged in various scientific activities, mostly reading. It was arranged for him to attend a weekly counseling session, and he soon started healing. The one thing that gave away that something had happened was how quiet he turned during those days.

It was a very rough time for the whole family, but things eventually went back to normal. _Almost._ Sherlock’s parents became over vigilant, but everyone tried to act as if nothing had happened. Thanks to Mycroft, the family learned about the girl and the break up, but they didn’t talk about it as Sherlock made clear he didn’t want to discuss any of it under any circumstance. They knew him well enough to leave him be.

Mummy took Sherlock on a long tour de Europe and she had a lovely time.

Although he ended up losing lost two school terms, once he got back he worked harder than ever and ended up graduating with honors in a shorter time than expected. He never came across Laura or met with her at school again.

Laura got herself on an exchange program abroad during her last school year. Her lifelong habit of extensive traveling had begun. Needless to say, she became a very successful career woman. She made her way into the public service and quickly escalated through the Department of Foreign Affairs ranks.

She’s now married with two children.

\- - * - -

Sherlock hears a small knock on the door before a stranger lets herself in. Everything she’s wearing is expensive. Even her perfume smells of wealth and distant places. It’s sweet and spicy and it saturates both the hospital’s room and Sherlock’s consciousness.

She looks at him with a timid smile in her eyes, but otherwise every gesture on her face seems quite well studied. It is the faces of a woman used to command authority.

He squints his eyes as she says confidently greets him. “Hi.”

Sherlock remains silent.

“May, I?” She gestures to the chair next to the bed.

Sherlock shrugs, “Sure, why not.”

Her voice is serene, but Sherlock can feel the emotion beneath. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was shot a month ago and I’ve been through two major life-threatening surgeries. Other than that, I’m doing just fine.”

“I see.” Another carefully crafted small smile.

“What about you?” Sherlock eyes her curiously.

“Just fine, as well.” She smiles frankly at him now.

“Just back from Cape Town?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like it there?”

“Can’t complain. It’s better than other places… although nothing will ever be as charming as Hastings.” She lets out a self-pleased chuckle, and then takes a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need.”

“There is. I know now that I could have gone about things differently. But I did what I thought was best at the time. You know what they say: you live, you learn. I won’t regret my choices, but I wish I had been kinder. You deserved better than that. I was too scared.”

“It’s fine.” Sherlock looks at the door.

“I’m also glad that the thing about your suicide almost three years ago wasn’t true. I couldn’t put myself together when I read about it in the papers. None of it made any sense.” She gasped, “I’m glad you’ve got that sorted out.”

Sherlock is starting to relax; he manages a soft smile, “I wouldn’t want things to be any other way. “It’s good not to dwell in the past and anyway everything turned out for the best.”

“It did.”

She sits poised holding firmly her black patent leather purse against her lap.

“What are their names?”

“Maggie and Jack. Lovely children.” She takes a deep breath and reaches into her purse. She produces a cell phone, finds a picture and hands him the device. “Maggie’s all freckled like me. God, she hates it!”

“They are lovely.”

Suddenly there’s a noise as another young woman comes in. She’s opened the door using the side of her body; she’s got her hands full with two packets of chips and a pair of paper cups. She’s a bit surprised when she discovers the blonde woman sitting next to the bed. She still smiles warmly at her, “Oh, hi.”

Laura gets up and takes the phone back. “I was just leaving.”

Sherlock beckons Molly to come closer. She’s obviously curious but she smiles as she walks past the woman; she leaves the things she was carrying on the bedside table and then takes hold of the hand that Sherlock’s extending for her. He curls his fingers around hers before saying, “This is Molly.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Laura nods courteously. She eyes them both and looks pleased. “Time to go now. It was nice seeing you again, Sherlock.” Then without saying one more word she turns around and leaves.

Molly’s furrowing her eyebrows. She stares at Sherlock questioningly, “Who was that?” Sherlock chooses to act dismissively, “Old acquaintance from school.” He’s still holding her hand and rubs his thumb gently against it. Finally he lifts his head and meets Molly’s eyes, they shine with tenderness. "Now, hand me some of those chips and carry on telling me about the marks that you found on that corpse…”

**\- FIN -**

 


End file.
